


Illusion of control

by Valentis



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Coming Untouched, Daddy Kink, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 22:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2749202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valentis/pseuds/Valentis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been too long since the last time. Bank teller or not, it's been too long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illusion of control

“Got it?” Seth asked, pointing his finger in the face of the bank teller. He could feel Richie's presence behind him, his ice cold eyes staring into his back, and Richie's presence alone was something he knew would make the bank teller get it. That customers are always right and that he and Richie were the most loyal costumers. He looked at her frightened eyes, anxiety seeping out of them.

He wished it wasn't so. That it hasn't been five years since he saw Richie and that Richie isn't someone different now. Even Seth felt his speech apply to himself in Richie's cold presence. And he sure hoped the bank teller wouldn't be with them in this motel, bound up and shaken. Nor that Richie would lose control, his calculated, precise, accurate self spiral into some chaos that leads to corpses, corpses made by Richie or corpses found by Richie. Or this damned bank teller.

Richie got up, walking towards the bedroom of the old motel that was furnished like the 80s and smelled like cigarettes and old people. Richie's breath was pulling Seth like a string, and Seth had to follow him. Bank teller or not, there was some unfinished business hanging like a drape in the atmosphere. Tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

So he turned around, watching Richie so casually walk into the bedroom, so casually as if nothing had ever happened. And Seth envied that, because Seth would never let anything like this go so easily, it was still clouding his vision and floating around like some cursed mist he could not rid. As if he was poisoned to the core. But Richie, he sat down on the bed, smirking at Seth, his eyebrow raising, so casually patting the bed next to him. And Seth only stared.

And then he moved. Like sleepwalking he followed Richie, though stopping dead in his tracks to turn around and look at the frightened woman.

“You better pretend you're not here.” Seth warned, his index pointing at her as he stared her dead in the eyes. Then he joined Richie, his arm reaching out to slam the door shut, but Richie swiftly moved to block the door with his foot.

“Don't let her out of sight.” Richie hissed, his eyes feral behind his glasses.

“Hm?” Seth replied, staring back at Richie, trying to shut the door as if it was a challenge.

“I don't trust her, you can't trust her!” Richie growled, spiraling again, to an absent and distant place that made Seth shudder, and reached out to violently overpower Seth and open the door.

“That's a matter of _opinion_.” Seth bit back, needing Richie to calm down, needing Richie to for once be himself. And Seth as well was so wound up by the previous happenings that he himself needed release. He needed Richie. He needed what they used to have. To have some sense of control, some feeling of control, even if it was just a lie. Richie always had control, but they could always pretend, because both needed to switch places and loosen up the knot that both were tied up in.

So Seth did the only thing he knew how to. While Richie was fumbling to force open the door Seth reached out and cupped Richie's slightly aroused groin. Richie gasped out in surprise, his left knee buckling and he had to catch and steady himself on Seth's shoulder. He felt Richie's itch, just as his own flowed through his veins. It had been too long.

And it was the illusion of control he craved for. And the taste and feel of his brother. He needed nothing but Richie, and everything Richie.

So taking advantage of Richie's surprise he pushed him slightly away, grabbing his collar while the other hand slammed open the door, just as Richie wanted, and he glimpsed the bank teller jump at the noise, but he didn't care. He barely even noticed, as he watched Richie's aroused eyes travel downwards, and Seth's head felt so hot and heavy, he longed for that look. Nothing mattered but Richie.

“Who's been a bad boy?” Seth hissed, because he needed release, to balance out Richie's frightening actions and pretend this wasn't the Richie he used to know, to punish him somehow even though he knew, deep inside he knew that this was a reward.

“You've been a really bad boy, Richard.” He repeated with a growl, loving the feeling of power. He held a vice grip around Richie's neck and saw the bulge straining in Richie's pants, and he felt his own mirror his brother. His other hand snaked around his own waist, unbuckling his belt and pulling it out of the loops. Richie was going to answer to his crimes, alright?

And he felt Richie pant, his eyes following Seth's movements carefully. Seth sat down on the bed, the cheap motel bed creaking, and kept his grip on Richie's neck, awkwardly twisting him to follow down. And it wasn't as if Richie couldn't break free, no, Seth knew that Richie was following him, wanting this just as much. And it felt good.

So Richie balanced across Seth's knees, as if it was a trick he had been taught as a puppy. It was awkward, Richie being larger than Seth, but Seth didn't mind because it felt so right. He laid down the belt besides him so that he could still keep his grip on Richie but also yank down his pants roughly. And once they were no longer an obstacle, his hand found its place feeling the smooth skin of Richie's ass. So long, it's been so long. It felt like it belonged there, as if they were born as one, a unity, a divine creature and now they were joined again. So he felt at the flesh, kneading and feeling every curve and stop like reading a map.

“Have I?” Richie asked with a smirk that Seth couldn't see but knew was there. The words were followed by Seth reaching out for his belt, folding the piece of leather and lifting it up to harshly bring it back down, the smack of skin echoing through the room, and Seth felt everything. Richie's intake of air, his hands clawing at Seth's thigh and squeezing it, his hard-on grinding into the other thigh.

“Don't play me, Richard.” Seth warned, leaning down to breathe in Richie's scent. The hand on Richie's neck travelled down, to grab at Richie's ass while the other one steadied for another strike. His hand returning to Richie's shoulders, he brought the other down once again, hearing Richie hiss but still felt his brother's cock getting rubbed against him as Richie moved forward, as much as he could with Seth pushing at his shoulder.

“Mm, _daddy_.” Richie mused, and the vibrations of Richie's word hit Seth in his chest and sped up travelling to his cock. Seth had to close his eyes to catch his breath. That word felt so pure but so dirty coming out of his baby brother's lips. And it made Seth's heart race and his sexual desires go wild. Why, he did not know. Maybe it was some way for him to get back at the years his dad abused him. And Richie. Like a mockery. Or perhaps Seth just was as sick and twisted as his dad. But the answer wasn't important, nor was the question. It was the ride, the road, the feeling. Maybe even the shame that ran through him, superior to his thoughts and letting him feel so real. So alive.

“Say it again.” Seth demanded, resting the belt and using his bare hand to knead and hit Richie, to feel skin on skin contact, to connect with Richie, make him rub wildly against Seth's leg to get friction. He dragged his nails at the now sensitive cheeks and as Richie bit “ _daddy_ ” again he roughly trailed down and pushed his thumb inside Richie. Dry. Pain, just as Richie likes it. And as Richie engulfed him, swallowed him in warmth he pushed back, moaning dirtily and ranting “ _daddy_ ” again. And Seth just stared. Lost in the moment, so under the influence of his brother. Felt Richie impossibly grow even larger as he ground both at Seth's leg and pushed himself back at Seth's thumb.

Seth tangled his fingers in Richie's hair, messing it up, knowing that Richie would never let anyone else touch his hair, or push their fingers deep inside him. He watched Richie's glasses slide off and fall on the floor, felt his grip on Seth's thigh.

He had grown so aroused, so hot and bothered that he had to remove his thumb, to then spit in his hand and snake it down his own pants to give himself a few satisfying strokes. Gathering pre-cum he smeared it all over his hand to once again join with Richie, pushing in two fingers.

He pushed around, curling his fingers, feeling after that spot, needing Richie to mewl and moan at his touches, needing Richie to be totally under his control.

He added yet another finger, knuckles deep inside Richie, feeling more than at home.

And then Richie was in a free fall, his hips bucking wildly and his weight almost crushing Seth as he cried out, and groaned as he shaked violently when Seth kept petting his insides.

“Fuck, Seth.” He panted, and Seth stopped dead in his tracks, smirking as Richie pathetically cried over Seth's decision. Tease.

“Seth..” He answered, but then his voice changed. “ _Daddy_! God, daddy! _Please_.. I'll be a good boy.” He wailed and whimpered, and Seth continued his ministrations, sharply jabbing at Richie's prostate.

And before Seth could register Richie slid back, Seth's fingers slipping out, Richie's hands moving to grab the leg that he'd been dry humping and he bit down on his own tongue trying to quiet his moan.

Seth couldn't help contain his disappointment. It was over way too quickly and he barely got to savour it. He stood up, watching Richie shiver and shake through his orgasm while keeping constant eye contact, even though Richie barely saw shit without his glasses.

“Did I give you permission?” Seth yelled, still drunk on the illusion of power, his anger getting the better of him. He watched Richie on his knees on the floor, his hair all messed up, glasses off, panting with his tongue slightly hanging out, and Seth's sexual frustration forced him to pull his cock out, and he violently grabbed Richie's head and pushed inside his mouth. Richie's eyes stared wide back at him, choking and gagging at him, and all that took Seth to empty himself in Richie's mouth was Richie's hands grabbing Seth's ass for support.

So he did. And he didn't regret any of it, the feeling of pleasure like shivers coursing through his body, making his toes curl and his teeth clench. The sound of Richie trying not to choke on the seed he was forced to swallow. And the sight he made as Seth had calmed his breath and pulled out was worth everything. Even worth all the shit Richie had started the last few hours.

Seth tucked himself back in, having to sit down on the bed to regain himself for a while. Richie didn't get up from the floor. He pulled his pants back up and smoothed down his messy hair, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and fumbled after his glasses.

“Just get me a burger already. _Daddy_.” Richie hissed, hoarse, and back to his own whiny self.

Seth sighed and got up, wobbling a bit as he exited the room, reality coming back to him as he saw the bank teller sit there, pale and staring at a fixed point.

“Sorry about that.” He said vaguely, pointing back at the room with Richie in it, shrugging though because frankly, he didn't care. He heard Richie turn on the tv in the other room, content, and then he grabbed some of the money they had stolen, hoping Richie wouldn't notice, and before he left their shitty motel room he heard Richie add “..and some sweet potato fries!”

And he opened the door and left, smiling to himself. Feeling better knowing that five years passed and it didn't decay the bond between him and his brother.


End file.
